I -- I have seen the perverse taking root, And I mark his habitation straightway,

Lo, this -- we searched it out -- it is right, hearken; And thou, know for thyself!

'Doth a rush wise without mire? A reed increase without water?

They have passed on with ships of reed, As an eagle darteth on food.

He doth turn aside from off me his rod, And His terror doth not make me afraid,

I speak, and do not fear Him, But I am not right with myself.

If its root becometh old in the earth, And its stem doth die in the dust,

But ye say, 'Why do we pursue after him?' And the root of the matter hath been found in me.

Their houses are peace without fear, Nor is a rod of God upon them.

To the left in His working -- and I see not, He is covered on the right, and I behold not.

Against the flint he sent forth his hand, He overturned from the root mountains.

My root is open unto the waters, And dew doth lodge on my branch.

On the right hand doth a brood arise, My feet they have cast away, And they raise up against me, Their paths of calamity.

Thou dost lift me up, On the wind Thou dost cause me to ride, And Thou meltest -- Thou levellest me.

For a fire it is, to destruction it consumeth, And among all mine increase doth take root,

For Job hath said, 'I have been righteous, And God hath turned aside my right,

Against my right do I lie? Mortal is mine arrow -- without transgression.'

Because that against right They have turned aside from after Him, And none of His ways have considered wisely,

Whether for a rod, or for His land, Or for kindness -- He doth cause it to come.

And even I -- I do praise thee, For thy right hand giveth salvation to thee.

Under shades he lieth down, In a secret place of reed and mire.

Dost thou put a reed in his nose? And with a thorn pierce his jaw?